


Home Is Where Your Arms Are Around Me

by Princess_Citrus



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ordinary People, Frottage, M/M, Smoking, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23190766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess_Citrus/pseuds/Princess_Citrus
Summary: A tender reunion between a medic and a spy
Relationships: Medic/Spy (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Home Is Where Your Arms Are Around Me

Klaus did not hear the door open or close, so it surprised him when two gloved hands settled over his eyes, but it also immediately tipped him off as to who it was. If that hadn't told him, the leather of the gloves, thick with the scent of cigarettes, would have. Klaus closed the book he'd been reading and pulled the hands away from his eyes, pulling one down to his mouth and pressing a kiss into the palm.  
  
"Wilkommen zu Hause, meine Liebe," he said as the spy moved around to the front of the chair and made himself comfortable in his lap. The medic checked over his shoulder to confirm that they were alone. "No scout? What about the assassin you were off looking for? The sniper?"  
  
The spy kept a still, casual face, but Klaus could pick up on the flicker of disappointment, of hurt, that was there. He had long since learned to decipher the spy's facial expressions.  
  
The spy shrugged and pulled out his cigarette case, more to fiddle with than anything else. "We made a stop in a nearby town and Nick decided he desired more…American company. The sniper offered to stay behind and chaperone." The spy selected one of the cigarettes and settled it between his first two fingers.  
  
Klaus was ready with a lighter, offering a flame for use. The spy smiled at him as he leaned into it and pulled in a breath. He released it a moment later, blowing the smoke away from his companion. "Can the man be trusted?" Klaus asked.  
  
The pause that the spy took some volumes. It told medic that it he had weighed the pros and cons extensively. Maybe the man could be trusted, maybe not. Maybe he was trusting the scout to stay out of trouble, maybe he was trusting that the man would be able to handle the trouble he did cause. He was clearly too tired of them, too overspent to stay with them any longer if he did decide to make the test of the journey on his own. Maybe he was trusting that even if the man was untrustworthy that he would be able to track him down and fix whatever he fucked up. The pause was only a second, maybe two, but it told Klaus all he needed to know about how the spy was doing. "Well enough," was the answer that followed.  
  
Klaus nodded, satisfied.  
  
The spy gestured to the lighter still in Klaus's hand with a small smile. "Quite the change from the old "stop that this instant before you die of cancer" you used to give me," he said before taking another drag.  
  
Klaus laughed. "At this point, I'll be lucky if it's lung cancer that kills you," he said as he moved a mostly empty coffee mug underneath the cigarette so he could ash. His tone was light, but it was true. If it was cancer that took him, that meant he lived longer than he ever thought he would. Klaus took his free hand and kissed the back of it. "Émile, meine Liebe," he said quietly, "let's go to bed." He didn't allow Émile to stand. He handed him the coffee mug and scooped him up in his arms as he stood. Émile leaned over Klaus's shoulder, resting his cheek on the crisp, clean shirt, the cigarette hanging loosely out if his mouth.  
  
Klaus set him down gently on the bed and started to undress him. It was so rare that Émile could be so relaxed, so vulnerable. Usually when he came to Klaus like this, he needed someone to take care of him. Ever the doting hen, Klaus was more than happy to fold his clothes and stack them neatly. Émile transferred the cigarette from one hand to the other so Klaus could pull his arms out of the sleeves. The very last item to go was his balaclava and Émile didn't even hesitate to lift his chin to offer him the hem of it. Klaus placed it delicately next to his head, knowing that he got anxious when it was out of reach. He took Émile's face in his hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead.  
  
The room was quiet except for the sounds of Émile's exhales of smoke and Klaus undressing. When he was finished, Klaus turned out all the lights except for the lamps beside the bed and joined the other.  
  
Klaus kissed his cheeks, down to his chin, down his neck, down his chest until he reached his pelvis. The lube was already waiting on the nightstand for Klaus to grab and squirt into his hand. He kissed the same spot of Émile's left shoulder repeatedly as he stroked him, allowing him to continue smoking while he stroked him. When they were both hard, Klaus lined their cocks up together and made small motions with his hips. The kisses moved up to his neck and Émile switched hands, making sure to move the coffee mug as well.  
  
Émile's eyes drifted closed as Klaus's body pressed down on him. Little sighs of pleasure left his mouth along with the smoke now and then.  
  
This was not a frantic rut or even impassioned love-making. It was simply two men, one of which had had a very long week, taking comfort in one another. Émile's head lolled back on the pillow and he let his mouth fall open, cigarette still in hand, dangling over the coffee cup, burning away. Klaus was now suckling behind his ear. He'd always liked that, but it was not something he let happen often. It was such a vulnerable place. It was only in moments like these did he allow another in so close. It was also in these rare moments that he let himself lay still and let another do the work. Even in handcuffs and blindfolded Émile had more control than he did now. Of course, Klaus would stop at a moment's notice, but Émile trusted him.  
  
They lost track of time, the cigarette long since burned down to the filter, as they moved together lazily. Émile still held the cigarette butt in his hand. There was no need to let go, no need to move at all besides with Klaus. His free hand had reached around to tangle in the man's hair. Klaus similarly kept his hands near Émile's shoulders, bracing himself on his forearms, just enough to keep from crushing the other.  
  
Ever sensitive to all of Émile's nearly imperceptible body language, Klaus could feel the way the muscles in his thighs twitched and the ones in his stomach tighten. Klaus kissed him as he rode out his orgasm slowly between them. When the hand in his hair loosened, Klaus pulled away. He excused himself silently with a kiss to the shoulder before he disappeared to the bathroom. The sounds of him finishing himself were almost inaudible to Émile due to the pleasant buzz in his ears. Klaus returned with a warm washcloth to clean the mess off of his abdomen. He replaced Émile's cigarette with one from his own nightstand; Émile's cigarette case was something that Klaus respected the absolute privacy of. When he slipped into bed, Émile was wearing his balaclava again, but he was smiling at Klaus.  
  
His face was more awake than it was when he had first climbed into Klaus's lap that evening; his eyes were brighter and his mouth was stronger. The sight of it overwhelmed Klaus with the urge to kiss him again. Émile did not protest in the slightest. Their legs tangled together underneath the covers as Émile stroked Klaus's hair and murmured to him in hushed French and German with a distinct Austro-Bavarian accent.

**Author's Note:**

> This was part of a larger AU that lives only in my head which is where the whole business with the other mercs being mentioned comes from. It doesn't need to be explained to be understood (I hope)


End file.
